Bettering in 2019
It’s past 4 in the afternoon of the first Sunday of 2019. Despite a mountain of unwashed, dirty clothes staring at me, waiting for their turn to get a clean slate, all I would like to do now is either sleep or stop myself from feeling sleepy.
I write not only because of the hope that doing so accomplishes the latter but also because it’s part of my new year’s resolutions: to blog at least once a week. Although this isn’t entirely surprising, as I have long intended to keep a regular writing schedule, I deem this goal ambitious.
In 2018, perhaps subconsciously, I tried to publish a blog post at least once a month. A quick look in my archive would show I almost nailed it. Almost. By August, I broke the chain. The busyness of my work caught up on me. When there’s barely enough time in a day to sleep, how do I squeeze in brief moments of reflection and, consequently, of writing?
The lack of time for activities outside work, I can prove. For some consecutive months, I had worked every day — literally, every day — including the weekends. I religiously kept a record of the number of hours I spend at work per day, summing them all up monthly, and for the full year, I overworked for 576 hours, or 72 eight-hour work days. That's about three to four months of working five days a week. In my fantasy, I could use this hefty overtime for a sabbatical. I can just imagine all the activities I’d finally get to do and all the places I could explore.
To say that the previous year has been tough is an understatement, but I don’t see it as a failure. 2018 is the year I got to mindfully decide — no matter how ironic this may sound — how I spend my time.
In May, I spent nearly a few days in La Union with my high school best friends, a weekend in Rizal with my younger sister, and a week in Oriental Mindoro for the wedding of a college friend. In October, I was in South Korea for a week-long vacation with another high school friend. (These are stories I wish to share, hopefully soon.) Then, there are some lone days when I wouldn’t report for work because I am unwell or have some errands to do. Had I been the person I used to be years ago, I don’t think I would’ve managed to make time for all those activities.
I learned to love myself more, and, with this, I valued myself and my happiness.
This year, aside from continuing to record my work hours, assess my monthly expenses, and try to keep a skin care routine, I am also committing to declutter a la Marie Kondo. “No mess, no stress,” I would say.
Of course, decluttering doesn’t only pertain to material possessions. The process also applies to unhelpful thoughts, toxic environments, and digital clutter, such as unnecessary email subscriptions and mobile apps.
I am keeping the promise of bettering myself. In 2019, I’m sure great things will come! •
I write not only because of the hope that doing so accomplishes the latter but also because it’s part of my new year’s resolutions: to blog at least once a week. Although this isn’t entirely surprising, as I have long intended to keep a regular writing schedule, I deem this goal ambitious.
In 2018, perhaps subconsciously, I tried to publish a blog post at least once a month. A quick look in my archive would show I almost nailed it. Almost. By August, I broke the chain. The busyness of my work caught up on me. When there’s barely enough time in a day to sleep, how do I squeeze in brief moments of reflection and, consequently, of writing?
The lack of time for activities outside work, I can prove. For some consecutive months, I had worked every day — literally, every day — including the weekends. I religiously kept a record of the number of hours I spend at work per day, summing them all up monthly, and for the full year, I overworked for 576 hours, or 72 eight-hour work days. That's about three to four months of working five days a week. In my fantasy, I could use this hefty overtime for a sabbatical. I can just imagine all the activities I’d finally get to do and all the places I could explore.
To say that the previous year has been tough is an understatement, but I don’t see it as a failure. 2018 is the year I got to mindfully decide — no matter how ironic this may sound — how I spend my time.
Living in the moment. The concept seemed so absurd to me. But this year taught me to let go.
“I’m off work early tonight; who among my friends will be available for a drink?” “I’m feeling stressed right now. May I vent?” “I have three hours free before I’d have to get back to work, maybe I’ll join a friend Christmas shopping.” “Got a free day? I better sleep.” “I want pizza. Let’s order pizza.” — excerpt from my year-ender Facebook post
In May, I spent nearly a few days in La Union with my high school best friends, a weekend in Rizal with my younger sister, and a week in Oriental Mindoro for the wedding of a college friend. In October, I was in South Korea for a week-long vacation with another high school friend. (These are stories I wish to share, hopefully soon.) Then, there are some lone days when I wouldn’t report for work because I am unwell or have some errands to do. Had I been the person I used to be years ago, I don’t think I would’ve managed to make time for all those activities.
I learned to love myself more, and, with this, I valued myself and my happiness.
This year, aside from continuing to record my work hours, assess my monthly expenses, and try to keep a skin care routine, I am also committing to declutter a la Marie Kondo. “No mess, no stress,” I would say.
Of course, decluttering doesn’t only pertain to material possessions. The process also applies to unhelpful thoughts, toxic environments, and digital clutter, such as unnecessary email subscriptions and mobile apps.
I am keeping the promise of bettering myself. In 2019, I’m sure great things will come! •